


and let us watch the earth and space unfold

by nfra3711



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5793361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nfra3711/pseuds/nfra3711
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyle Dylandy wasn't always Lockon Stratos, and while he hates it when people perceive him that way, he can't help but see himself as a broken, much less perfect version of Neil Dylandy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and let us watch the earth and space unfold

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't really done anything 00 related ever since Trailblazer was released, so this was a fun little challenge to write.  
> Lyle's one of my favorite, and it still saddens me that the series didn't quite give his character justice. I feel like there's a lot of unexplained loop holes about both his relationship with Neil and with Anew. 
> 
> So I tried to break out his thought process a little bit. Enjoy! :)

Lyle knew Neil was alive.

It really didn’t require a lot of thinking. Growing up he had come to accept the bitter realization that there were simply not many people to care enough- lest about him or his twin older brother (perhaps if there were, he pondered one time or the other, he and Neil wouldn’t have grown to be so… complicated).

So the first time he saw another bouquet of white flowers sitting idly on the rim of their family grave, he was certain it couldn’t have been anyone else other than Neil; and it sent various different emotions up his chest, a lot of thoughts and what-ifs up his head.

Yet he knew of one thing- that he had to meet him, had to see Neil- because no matter how strange and awkward it would be and how upset he was with Neil for abandoning him when they were barely teenagers, it was Neil and he was _aliv_ e and Lyle might forgive him after he gave his pretty little face (he’d know, they were identical) a punch or two. Might.

On one death anniversary and another, somehow Neil always managed to outrun him, reaching and leaving before Lyle could even make one step into the gravesite. Lyle learned to take cautions and did meticulous planning, determined to catch his brother on spot even if it was the last thing he did.

He saw Neil one time.

He knew all his tedious work and effort paid off when he arrived that morning and there were no single flowers in sight by his parents’ grave.  He adorned the view by gracious petals and hushed off behind the tall trees. He waited.

He was just about done with his third cigarette when Neil showed up, as tall and handsome as Lyle was, covered in black as Lyle was, and Lyle wasn’t quite sure if he should take pride or dwell in disgust that he and Neil still looked completely identical- even after all those years.

Neil was standing right there yet Lyle took no step closer. He watched Neil bend down to his knees, putting his flowers next to where Lyle’s were and giving the tombstone the gentlest stroke. He stayed still as Neil dragged his head down and whispered in all heartful earnestness (later on Lyle would realize that it was apologies, and many, many shamefully empty promises of revenge), and remained in his place when Neil stood back up.

Lyle knew it was stupid. He’d waited years after years to see Neil and he was successfully making nothing out of it. Perhaps he just couldn’t yet forgive Neil, or perhaps he was just simply a coward.

Next time, he told himself.

_Next time._

\--

Lyle never hated Neil. Never did, never would.

But it revolted him how much they saw Neil in him, that they were similar, that they were really, really similar that it was impossible to tell that it was Lyle and not Neil somehow miraculously risen back from the dead.

He asked himself, over and over and again, if it was really what Neil was like. If _he_ was what Neil was like.

A part of him wanted to indulge them in it, wanted to help Neil’s friends in their process of mourning, wanted to give them the slightest glimmer of hope that nothing was over and it was definitely not the end of the world because Neil Dylandy was dead.

He really had a hard time donning the name ‘ _Lockon_ ’. No one had ever addressed him that way, and it was his first time hearing such a ridiculously cheesy codename. Yet it didn’t feel like him, he didn’t feel like Lyle Dylandy anymore, and with the cheesy codename came another person that Lyle had to wear like it was a costume, one that his new colleagues expected to see, one that would cover his feelings and emotions and everything that made him, him. Because no one in that ship wanted Lyle Dylandy, and Lyle only hoped this would at least stop the endless lucid dreams of Neil, of Neil’s death and of the first and last time they had crossed paths.

\--

Then there came Anew.

Lyle had made his fair share of bad decisions, which a lot of was caused by uncivilized amount of drinking and thoughtless one time things. He didn’t think another hook-up would mean anything, not when the chick was hot and he totally dug it and everyone else in the ship had mixed feelings about him and would rather not be in his field of vision. It would be as simple as that; a mere physical comfort in the troubling times.

There was always something so odd about her, about how genuinely attractive she was, how kind and caring and ridiculously good in a ridiculous amount of things she was and how it didn’t take her three days to get everyone aboard the Ptolemy turned head over heels about her. It was as if she was the literal embodiment of perfection, as if there was no single speck of dust staining her flawless visage, and it put him at unease as he came to terms with the fact that he was hopelessly smitten.

She would stare off far into space in the middle of the day (not that they could tell, with space always seeming so unchanging), then blank out, then downright lose chunks of her memories and it started driving Lyle crazy.

It was an entirely new concept to him, the people with special ‘ _gifts_ ,’ people who weren’t quite human with an oddity to their brain cells- or was it brain waves? Fuck, he couldn’t remember. He’d heard something about Tieria and Allelujah and his girlfriend; that they weren’t what people would call normal and how their abilities could be both a blessing and a curse. Still they were things that were out of Lyle’s comprehension and he could only cross his fingers that whatever was causing Anew to be what Anew was like was something that wouldn’t come biting him in the ass later on.

He knew it would, oh he _damn_ knew it would.

But he’d seen enough from life to know when someone really meant their words, and while Anew was nothing short of suspicious with practically a blinding warning sign slapped right across her face, he knew she meant everything she said about him- he believed so.

He’d gotten used to her that he could tell where Anew started and where…whatever it was that wasn’t Anew did. He wanted to help her; wanted to reach out to her, to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright and they’d eventually find a way to stay together. But Anew was detached from the reality- from Lyle, more often than she did when they first met, and Lyle started to realize that it was something beyond his control, beyond his power, that he alone couldn’t save Anew. And if he kept this up, he’d put not only himself in danger, but the rest of the people on that ship, his new friends that had _just_ started to trust him.

Looking back to it he couldn’t tell why he was so stubborn, why he remained silent and continued to shower Anew with half-baked lies and _I love you’s_ that comforted neither of them. He wondered and wondered, if Anew realized it too, if she knew that Lyle knew and they were both just making desperate attempts to push back the inevitable.

Whenever he woke up to find Anew was still right where she was the time he fell asleep; next to him and curled up against his chest, he’d present her with silent kisses that would often end up waking her up. She’d giggle and tell him to stop, and Lyle could only pull a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He loved her, oh he loved her so, yet the clock was ticking mercilessly and Lyle still didn’t know what to do when the time came.

Then the time came and he still didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t make sense of the stupid words he was spluttering about as he cracked into her cockpit. He didn’t very much understand what he was doing when he begged her to come back to him.

He didn’t know what to do as he watched her die- and never in his life had he seen someone dying with such a serene look on their face- like she truly had no regrets that things came down this way…

… and he shared the sentiments, that he didn’t regret meeting her, didn’t regret any of the silly banters they had or the intimate moments they shared with only each other, away from the cruel, cruel world even if for just a fleeting moment.

But with Anew gone he realized he’d forgotten how to be a stranger. He’d taken too much comfort in her for too long that he came to believe someone actually wanted to be with Lyle Dylandy and not Lockon Stratos. He’d forgotten that just because Anew wanted him, it wasn’t the case that everyone else did.

Somewhere along the way his mask fell apart- and now he had to pick up the pieces and put them together once more- and he couldn’t figure for the sake of his life how he should do that without Anew.

\--

It wasn’t before some time- two years and counting- that he started to accept himself- that Cherudim was a part of him and that Lockon Stratos wasn’t necessarily Neil Dylandy (and that green showed off his excellent physique quite charmingly).

Perhaps it wasn’t quite yet Lyle that his face was displaying, but it wasn’t a broken version of Neil either and he’d realized that he wasn’t doing this for the sake of making his deceased brother—or his deceased brother’s friends, happy. What he was doing felt right to him, despite it taking him a few tries to understand, and he was certain he would be a step closer to be content with being Lyle once he knew he’d given his contribution so that the world would become a better place; not exactly the most beautiful and very much not perfect, but a place less crooked and distorted and a place where Neil Dylandy would have been a lot less angry and where Anew Returner wouldn’t have had to live shadowed by fear.

When he knew he’d done his part, then he could lay back and watch the Earth and space unfold. And then for once he’d be proud, fulfilled and empty of regrets, to have worn the name Lockon Stratos.

\--


End file.
